


Smoke Signal

by Rahenna



Series: Rahenna's Gakuen Heaven Oneshots [12]
Category: Gakuen Heaven
Genre: Casual Sex, Control, Dominance, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, One Night Stands, Power Dynamics, see you there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-26 23:08:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6259804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahenna/pseuds/Rahenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six years after graduating from Bell Liberty, Nakajima Hideaki still enjoys playing power games with guys he picks up from a local bar. One evening, a more exciting prospect appears, interesting not only because of his force of presence, but also his identity...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Target

**Author's Note:**

> So this happened.
> 
> Make no mistake, I am solidly NOT a Nakajima fan. However, Nakajima is actually an interesting and amusing character if you completely separate him from his lazily written, no-character-development character route - and from the dumbassed version of Keita who exists in his route.
> 
> After all, what fun is a power struggle against a weak opponent?  
>  ~~I'm going to hell and so are you for reading this~~
> 
> ~~~
> 
> Originally posted here:  
> [Adults Always Lie](http://heaven.neo-romance.net/lies/)
> 
> If you want to know more about the Gakuen Heaven series, please visit my fansite for game translations and summaries:  
> [welcome to Heaven](http://heaven.neo-romance.net/)

Nakajima Hideaki brought his third cigarette of the evening to his lips, eyes darting up and down the bar counter in search of fresh prospects. The crowd had shifted a bit with the passing of time, with more couples arriving to squeeze the solitary salarymen into a smaller and smaller area. In other words, the usual. The establishment wasn't technically a gay bar, though it was known for having a tolerant owner who often flirted with the men who gathered at the far end of the counter.

 _Speaking of which..._ Nakajima crooked his finger, beckoning the bartender over. He received an exasperated look in response, and it was several minutes before the short, lean man was able to break away from a pair of newcomers.

"Yeah, Hide, what is it?"

Nakajima glanced at him over the top of his lenses, frowning slightly. "Where is the attractive regular you promised me, Hiroto? All I see are college kids and tired old salarymen."

"Whoa, I never said he was a regular, and I didn't promise anything either." Hiroto placed one elbow on the counter, resting his chin on his hand. "You really do get off on twisting people's words around, don't you?"

"It sounds so harsh when you put it that way," Nakajima smirked, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

Hiroto waved the smoke away with his free hand. "You talk big, but you're just a punk, Hide. I told you, that guy probably wouldn't be interested, he doesn't seem like the type who puts up with bullshit. And I've never seen him leave with a guy who looks any less than ten years older than himself. He won't even look at you."

"If he likes older guys, maybe you should make a pass at him."

"You're such an ass, Hide. I still look the same age as you." Hiroto plucked the cigarette from Nakajima's hand and took a quick drag. 

Nakajima snatched it back with a frown. "Aren't you supposed to be a professional? Don't flirt with me while you're on the job."

"Well, I certainly won't flirt with you after work. I've had enough of your shitty attitude. Once was enough." The words were harsh, but Hiroto was almost grinning at the memory.

"Hmp, from that stupid smirk, I'd guess that you wanted me to tie you up again."

"Just because it was fun once, that doesn't mean I wanna do it again. Especially since you're one of those assholes who doesn't know when to stop." Hiroto's grin faded a bit. "Anyway, you want another drink?"

"It took you that long to realize my glass was empty? No wonder you have no customers."

At that, they both laughed. The bar was more popular than ever, thanks to the opening of two new office buildings nearby. Nakajima was fairly sure that the recent surge of customers would die down a bit once the workers satisfied their curiosity, but in the short term, it had become a better hunting ground than usual.

Hiroto opened his mouth to deliver a sharp response, but paused, eyes darting to the door. A smug smirk came to his lips, prompting Nakajima to turn around and look. Nothing special, just a pair of grey-suited coworkers loosening their ties as they stepped into the smoky haven, and behind them, a straight couple, hand in hand. Just as he was about to turn around, Nakajima spotted the person that Hiroto had recognized, a tall, slim man with an above-average face. That he was momentarily speechless, watching as the man made his way to the far corner of the bar, had nothing to do with the man's broad shoulders or confident, unhurried way of walking.

_Does Hiroto have any idea who that is?_

Nakajima recovered his composure almost instantly and turned back to the bartender. "I assume he's the one you were telling me about?"

"Yeah, that's him. Not bad, huh?" He straightened up. "Anyway, I'll be back, I gotta get him a drink."

"What about _my_ drink?" Nakajima muttered, but it was too late. He looked down at the cigarette in his hand, debating about starting a new one that hadn't had Hiroto's mouth all over it, then shrugged and lifted it to his lips. He leaned forward, one elbow on the counter, and turned his head to watch the stranger discreetly.

Except he wasn't a stranger. Well, not in the sense of being completely unknown.

 _I could be mistaken._ Nakajima exhaled a huff of smoke. _But I don't think so._

He'd seen the man's photo enough times in the alumni materials from the school, his stern look quite a contrast from his younger companion's smile. Even though he was dressed less formally than the other man in the picture, he had a stronger, more mature presence. Nakajima had been surprised to read the caption and discover that the skinny, smiling man was the director of the school, and that his serious companion was second in command. Even stranger was the unlikely partnership, the rival Suzubishi and Sakaki families working together to head up the Suzubishi Group's pet school. Well, the corporate partnership had been all over the news a while back, with business analysts getting their panties in a wad over the idea of a potential monopoly. He'd even had to write an opinion piece about it for law school.

But that was getting off topic.

Nakajima watched as Hiroto brought the newcomer, Sakaki, his order: Japanese sake and a small plate of edamame. Very traditional, and a bit out of the ordinary for Hiroto's bar, whose customers were generally more interested in the fifty varieties of import beer and various spirits. He tapped his cigarette on the rim of the ashtray, making a mental note to ask Hiroto about it. Nakajima himself wasn't a big fan of sake, but if there was a special variety of extra high quality, it would be a waste not to try it at least once.

He watched Sakaki pour himself a drink and sip at it lightly, a slight smile of contentment curving his lips as his shoulders relaxed. A moment later, he pulled a lighter and a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and lit up. If he'd looked satisfied after tasting his drink, his expression was positively blissful as he drew in a deep drag, holding it for several seconds before releasing it slowly in a swirling cloud.

Nakajima had never spoken to the man, but could already sense the basic outline of his personality: masculine, mature, and self-assured. Perhaps vain, he mentally added, noting his stylish haircut and expensive clothing. In short, he was more like Nakajima himself rather than the type that he would normally go for, but there was a certain intrigue in pursuing a similar type as well. The game was more intense if played correctly, and more pleasurable if someone who was normally strong could be brought to his knees.

He raised his glass, banged it back down on the counter in irritation when he realized that it was still empty. "Hiroto!" he snapped, not caring that the other customers turned to stare.

The bartender returned a minute later with a fresh glass of whisky. "Don't get so pissy, Hide, I was taking care of your potential mark. He doesn't like to be kept waiting."

 _I'd expect not, considering his pedigree._ "I don't like waiting either," Nakajima replied, snatching up the glass to take a sip.

Hiroto shrugged, expression unapologetic. "It's the evening rush. No one likes it. But," he leaned in closer, "what do you think? Seems like he enjoys all your vices. It might work out."

Nakajima reached up to adjust his glasses before reponding, taking some time to decide just how much he wanted to let his friend know. It was never good to appear too interested. "He has a nice face, and from what I could see when he walked in, a decent body." A pause. "Hard to tell from here, this angle is bad for watching."

"So get up and go sit next to him. You've never been one to be shy."

Nakajima snorted. "I'm not so desperate that I need to start hanging all over a guy within five minutes of his arrival. Give the man some time to enjoy his drink. When he starts looking at the crowd, that's when I'll know he's ready."

"Ready? The way you say that, it's like you're talking about a ripening banana or something."

A smirk twisted Nakajima's lips. "Close enough."


	2. Approach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is probably ridiculous, but I don't care. 8D

Just as Nakajima had expected, it took Sakaki some time to get truly settled in and begin scanning the bar for prospects. The man was methodical and efficient in his relaxation; the corpse of his first cigarette had been already been banished to the nearest ashtray, and the small plate he shoved away held nothing but empty pods. Sakaki lit a second cigarette and puffed at it idly as he looked around, his vaguely bored expression making it clear that he was not impressed with the evening's selection.

Before his eyes could sweep far enough to his left to catch Nakajima's gaze, a young woman cut between Sakaki and the patron to his immediate left, clamoring for Hiroto's attention. Nakajima was too far away to hear her request, but from her attitude and the way she waved her glass at the bartender, it looked like she'd been waiting a while for a refill.

_Damnit, bitch, get out of my way!_

Nakajima leaned forward in an effort to see around her, but the stupid college girl was solidly in the way. As he watched, she also leaned forward, resting her forearms on the edge of the bar, squeezing her upper arms inward in a pathetic attempt to show off her small breasts. Nakajima rolled his eyes with a sigh. He wasn't sure which was worse; her sad attempt to show off something that wasn't there, or her complete obliviousness to the fact that Hiroto had zero interest in tits.

Thankfully, Hiroto was sharp enough to realize that the girl was irritating the all-male customer base at that end of the bar, and quickly mixed up another fruity drink for her. She sauntered off, looking pleased with herself, as she sipped delicately at her drink, which looked more like a pink smoothie than an alcoholic beverage. The thing even had a paper umbrella in it, the pick jammed through a fat, bright strawberry. Ridiculous.

The moment she was out of the way, Nakajima snatched up his drink and abandoned his barstool, determined to act before any further distractions could interfere with his intentions. He strode over to Sakaki, neatly inserting himself into the space that the clueless girl had just vacated, and set his drink down next to the other man's sake set.

"Great, another idiot," the man behind him grumbled. "Go find a seat or get lost!" A moment later, the man's bony elbow jammed into Nakajima's back, grinding at his suit jacket.

Nakajima didn't bother looking behind himself before reacting, left arm darting behind his back, fingers catching the man's wrist in a vice grip. "Is there a problem?"

Sakaki's eyes were on him, sparing only a brief glance at his face before they followed the line of his arm down and back. Nakajima watched him, careful to avoid eye contact as he examined his face for any sign of a reaction. The man was difficult to read, his expression neutral as he waited for Nakajima's next move.

Interesting.

"N, no problem," the man behind him muttered, attempting to pull away and drawing in a sharp breath as Nakajima's grasp tightened further.

"I see." Nakajima paused for several seconds, enjoying the wild pulse that pounded beneath his fingers. God, these losers were all the same, acting tough until someone with actual strength pushed back a little. The guy was probably about to piss his pants. "You want me to sit down? This spot will do nicely."

He felt the man's wrist tense as his hands balled into fists; an angry but ultimately futile reaction. They slackened again after a few seconds. "Yeah, fine, whatever. This bar sucks anyway."

Nakajima allowed the man to shake him off, not bothering to turn around or acknowledge him in any way as he hastily vacated the barstool, leaving behind his half-finished drink. He wasted no time settling onto the warm seat, not because he thought anyone would dare to try stealing it, but because he was tired of wasting time on unpredictable bullshit that was getting in the way of his goal.

Sakaki was still watching him, gaze sliding over Nakajima's face and figure now that they had a few moments of peace to examine each other. Nakajima wasted no time in doing the same, pleased to discover that his mark was even more attractive than he appeared in the Bell Liberty materials. His skin was smooth and even in tone, without the slightest hint of blemishes or redness, and his face was framed well by the stylish haircut that seemed to highlight the healthy shine of his glossy hair. Nakajima watched as Sakaki brought the cigarette to his lips again, first studying his fingers. They were long, nails clean and carefully manicured in the typical fashion of a high-class businessman. More interesting were his lips, pursed lightly about the base of the cigarette, their deep pink a sharp contrast to the white paper.

_Nice mouth. Even nicer if it was wrapped around my cock._

Sakaki set his cigarette in one of the notches on the ashtray and blew the smoke to one side. When he spoke, his voice was rich and smooth, deeper than Nakajima had expected. "You seemed rather eager to claim that seat."

Nakajima waited for him to continue, but when it became clear that no more words were coming, he shrugged, offering a cool smile. "There's nothing interesting over there," he nodded toward his original seat near the entrance. "I thought I'd try my luck on this end."

"Luck, huh?" Sakaki snorted. "Looked a bit more like singleminded purpose to me."

"Close enough." Nakajima picked up his drink and took a slow sip, maintaining eye contact with Sakaki the entire time. He really was handsome, possessing just the sort of masculine beauty that Nakajima found most appealing. Not only that, but he was well aware that he was being watched, taking the opportunity to study Nakajima just as carefully. Quietly assessing, looking him over with a practiced eye.

This definitely wasn't his target's first rodeo. Or his tenth.

The ice clinked against the glass as Nakajima set it back down. He folded his arms over his chest, flexing his biceps lightly as he did so, pleased to note that Sakaki watched the motion with interest. Too bad he hadn't paused to unbutton and roll up his sleeves before hurrying to snatch the seat at Sakaki's side; Nakajima was sure the other man would have appreciated a closer look at what he had to offer. Well, it wasn't a total loss, he thought, reaching up to loosen his tie with one finger.

"What do you want me to call you?" Sakaki asked, eyes fixed on Nakajima's hands as he undid the first two buttons on his shirt, pushing the fabric aside to reveal a peek of skin.

Nakajima paused, considering. If Sakaki was a regular - no, not quite a regular, but someone who came often enough that Hiroto recognized him - then he may have already overheard his name. "Everyone here calls me Hide. You?"

Sakaki was smiling faintly. "Just Sojiro is fine."

Interesting again. Nakajima had half-expected him to dispense a generic fake name, but all things considered, his name was already common and nondescript, at least in pronunciation. Only something like Taro or Ichiro would have been more bland and anonymous.

"Well, Sojiro," Nakajima pulled off his tie and began rolling it into a tight spiral, "I assume you're here for reasons other than the nonexistant quality of service?" He smirked at Hiroto, who happened to be darting by at that exact moment, earning a hearty _fuck you_ in response.

Sakaki laughed at that, a short, harsh sound that probably struck terror into the hearts of innocent first-year students. "It's adequate. I don't expect to spend much time at the bar when I go out at night." His eyes locked with Nakajima's, his faint smile inviting further questioning.

"Nor do I. If I have to order more than one drink, I'm wasting my time." 

"Hmm," Sakaki murmured, picking up his cigarette again. "I don't mind spending a bit of time if it means the difference between a hasty decision and a good one, though."

Nakajima tucked the rolled tie into the inner pocket of his jacket, resting his elbow on the counter again to lean toward Sakaki, pushing the boundary of his personal space. "And what does it take to get a man like you to make a decision, Sojiro?"

To his credit, Sakaki didn't even blink; instead, his body tilted forward slightly, his eyes sweeping over Nakajima again. "Careful consideration of the best offerings, of course."

His gaze lingered over the exposed skin of Nakajima's chest for several seconds before continuing down, taking in the shape of his body beneath the closely fitted shirt. As Sakaki's gaze moved even farther down, Nakajima shifted subtly on the barstool, opening his legs wider, tilting his hips forward just a bit. He wasn't really able to show anything off effectively - after all, he didn't fancy wearing ball-crushing dress pants all day just to show off a bit at the bar after work - but the motion was an effective silent invitation.

_All this could be yours._

Nakajima didn't waste the opportunity to check Sakaki out as well, though with his slightly looser clothing, it was difficult to accurately imagine what lay beneath. The man was tall, perhaps as tall as himself, and slim, which didn't necessarily mean toned. Still, it was probably safe to assume that Sakaki was the type who took care of himself, especially if he made a habit of hanging out in bars, hunting for older men. Though it seemed that 'older' wasn't an absolute requirement; Nakajima was fairly certain that Sakaki was the same age as himself, perhaps even a few years older.

Inspection complete, Sakaki straightened up slightly in his seat and met Nakajima's eyes once more. "Well, Hide, why don't we get to the point here? Like you, I'd rather not waste time."

The corners of Nakajima's lips twitched, not quite a smile, and he leaned in, close enough to catch a whiff of expensive cologne and hair product. Close enough to see Sakaki's pulse throbbing in his neck.

His voice dropped to a low purr. "I hear you like a man who knows how to treat a man."

Perhaps a little too subtle for Nakajima's usual tastes, but it was important to read the mood and adjust the snare to suit the prey. Years of practice had become a kind of instinct, and he sensed that Sakaki would appreciate a more skillful lure before being hit with anything more substantial. The carefully chosen words had a positive effect; Sakaki's shoulders tensed slightly, eyes narrowing just a bit as he drew in a breath that was a little sharper than normal.

"That depends on how you treat a man."

Nakajima's expression twisted into a smirk, and he leaned closer still, enough to be sure that no one else would overhear. "Like someone who enjoys a good, hard fuck."

He waited a few seconds for the words to sink in before straightening up in his seat, steely eyes holding Sakaki's gaze, demanding an answer. Sakaki's hand was steady as he brought the fading stub to his lips one last time, drawing in a mouthful of smoke. He held it for a moment, then released it slowly into the other man's face.

Classic, silent acceptance.

That quiet confidence and the subtle, self-satisfied smile on Sakaki's lips was enough to finally quicken Nakajima's pulse. The thrill of the chase was nothing special; it was easy enough to flatter the simple, shallow guys who frequented bars and clubs. Picking up someone like that, who immediately caved to pressure without offering any resistance, was hardly an achievement. But it was incredibly satisfying to wrestle control from a man who was normally the sole master of himself. 

_I'm going to enjoy making you beg._

"How fortunate. We just met, but you seem to understand my requirements quite well." Sakaki ground the stub into the ashtray without breaking eye contact.

Nakajima gestured toward the door. "After you, then."


End file.
